


A Worthy Prize

by Loopstagirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Violence, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopstagirl/pseuds/Loopstagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killing Arthur was too simple. Odin wanted something much more. He wanted to destroy him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.
> 
> I thought there could have been something so much darker with that episode when Morgana promised Odin he could have Arthur to do what he wanted with. So I thought I would experiment.

It came naturally to him. As soon as he heard the sound of a sword being drawn, all thoughts stopped and his body just reacted. Arthur knew there was a reason he had been First Knight of Camelot almost as soon as he been knighted; he was good. Even Merlin admitted that and his servant was not one to dish out compliments.

He might have been trapped in a small room with only Percival for back up, surrounded by enemy soldiers who no doubt wanted him dead, but Arthur was no afraid. His sword moved as if it was part of him, anyone venturing near didn’t have time to react before he despatched them. Emotions could play no part: it was kill or be killed and Arthur had learnt long ago that mercy had its time and place.

How long the fight went on for, Arthur had no idea. Sounds were muted to him, he only saw the men coming towards him and then falling away. He was aware of glancing towards Percival at one point to check his knight was alright, but upon seeing him fighting just as calmly as the king, Arthur had turned back to the fight at hand and thought nothing more of it.

But a high pitched scream cut through his focus and Arthur stumbled before he realised what had happened. The man he had been about to kill took advantage of his mistake, but Arthur regained his senses before he could come to any harm, dispatching the man and looking around for the source of the sound. There was only one person who could scream like that and Arthur couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of getting to Mithian and protecting her sooner. A glance around showed her father slumped against the wall, a bloody wound on his head and that was all Arthur needed to start sprinting towards the far side of the room.

Pressing his fingers against Rodor’s neck, Arthur found himself sighing in relief at feeling the weak pulse. The old man was still alive. Arthur still wasn’t sure what was happening here – it was clear he had been led into some sort of trap but his enemy hadn’t yet revealed himself– and didn’t want anything to happen to Rodor – he was a good man. Yet Mithian was nowhere to be seen and Arthur knew he didn’t have time to wait for Percival to join him. Instead, he darted into a small corridor that he hadn’t noticed before, twisting and turning his way back towards the outside world.

More than once he heard the sound of a struggle, but the corridor had many corridors and the sound was deceptive. It was only when daylight could be seen at the end again did he finally catch sight of Mithian. A man had an arm looped strongly around her waist, hauling her along. It seemed the princess was putting up a struggle that Arthur was proud of, but her attacker had strength and size on his side and Mithian stood no chance. Arthur picked up his speed, wanting this to be over and done with so he could make it home.

But just as he exited the ruins and called out to Mithian’s attacker, he froze. Something about this was very wrong. The man wasn’t moving her further, he wasn’t even hurting her. Instead, he had pinned her to his chest and placed a hand over her mouth. Judging by the wide look in her eyes, Arthur knew it wasn’t to stop her from screaming.

It was to stop her from warning him.

“Let her go,” knowing that he had to stay on the offensive if he was to have any chance of getting out of this, Arthur spun his sword expertly around his hand and levelled it at the man. He might have been using Mithian as a shield, but Arthur knew his arm would be true and he would be able to take down the brute without so much as scratching her.

“Now why would I want to do that? A beautiful princess like her; a fine queen or an even finer hostage.”

Arthur froze.

He knew that voice, although it had been many years since he had last heard it. But it had echoed through his nightmares, particularly after his father’s death. Swallowing down the trepidation rising in his chest, Arthur shifted his angle until he could see to the other side of the man. Sure enough, Odin stepped down from an elegant carriage, barely sparing Mithian a glance as he stalked forward. Arthur made sure his sword was covering him, acutely aware that he had sped out here with no backup. Even if Percival realised where he had gone, he would still have to fight through the rest of the men before he could come after the king.

Arthur knew that Odin had been behind the attacks, Mithian had told him so much. But he didn’t understand what the man was planning now. He should be looking to his defences and holding the city he had taken, not roaming around out here. How had he even know that Mithian would return?

“Let her go,” Arthur repeated, his voice radiating authority. “Your quarrel is with me, not with her. Release her.”

“When will you ever learn, dear brother? You are in no position to bargain.”

Arthur froze at the sound of the voice coming from behind him. Shivers ran down his spine. That voice formed his nightmares more than Odin’s these days. The woman he had once trusted above anyone, turned traitor and then murderer. This time, he knew he couldn’t disguise the swallow that he forced even as he turned towards Morgana.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised when he saw her dressed in the clothes of the old woman. She would have wanted to make sure they arrived safely into the trap, that Mithian played her part. One glance at the princess revealed the tears running down her face; she had known who her maid was. Arthur closed his eyes with a sigh.

“Morgana.” It was a statement more than anything and Arthur opened his eyes again. Now he knew for sure that he was in trouble. Odin at least he could fight, even if he wasn’t sure he could win with the man’s soldiers surrounding them. But it would be a fair fight and his death would at least be honourable. Now that Morgana had revealed herself, however, and magic would be thrown into the mix, Arthur was no longer sure he had the ability to walk away from this.

A cruel smirk crossed what once had been a beautiful face as Morgana lifted her hand towards him. Arthur tensed, letting his sword rise again, although he knew it would do no good. He wouldn’t be able to get close enough before she cast her magic. That was his last thought as a word rolled from Morgana’s tongue. All Arthur was aware of was an excruciating pain in the back of his head before blackness claimed his vision and he knew no more.

MMM

It was the nausea that brought Arthur back to consciousness. His stomach was rolling and his head pounding. But even as he tried to swallow back the bile, he realised vomiting would cause him even bigger problems: he was gagged and his hands were bound firmly behind his back. Forcing bleary eyes open, Arthur knew in one wriggle that his feet were also bound and the strange rocking sensation wasn’t just his spinning head. He was sprawled on the bottom of a carriage, that seemed to be travelling at some speed if the motion was anything to go by.

Arthur stayed still for a moment, not being sure if he wanted to draw attention to the fact that he was awake. But then he realised he couldn’t take note of his surroundings nor protect himself if he continued to lay still. Not to mention there was the muffled sound of a woman crying and Arthur had a horrible feeling that Odin had meant what he had said about not letting Mithian go. Slowly, Arthur opened his eyes and slowly shifted his head so that he could take note of precisely what was going on.

He was right in thinking that he was now in Odin’s carriage. The man was sitting practically above him and even from the angle that he was at, Arthur could see the smirk on his face. By twisting his head slightly, Arthur could see that Mithian was sitting next to him. Her hands were loosely bound in front of her and she was being pinned into position by Odin’s arm resting heavily over her shoulder. He hadn’t stopped there though, his hand slipping down the top of her dress and caressing her breast cruelly.

Arthur knew then that waking up was the right thing to do. This wasn’t just about protecting himself.

Making a show of coughing into the gag so that Odin knew he was awake, Arthur rolled onto his back. Almost instantly, there was a foot pressing lightly over his throat. Although Odin wasn’t exerting pressure, Arthur knew the message was clear. He was to stay precisely where he was.

“Arthur!” Mithian lunged forward at realising he was awake, but Odin grabbed her roughly, shoving her back into her seat. Arthur growled at the rough treatment and received a kick in the side for his efforts.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to draw attention to yourself if I were you, little king,” Odin mocked, making sure both prisoners were unable to move anywhere as his hand slipped back down Mithian’s dress and he began kissing her neck.

In the end, Arthur let his thoughts drift. Odin wasn’t paying him any attention, his large hands too busy roaming Mithian’s body. Arthur knew how this sort of thing worked; if he misbehaved it would be taken out on her. Odin knew Arthur was an honourable man – he wouldn’t let something happen to an unarmed and innocent woman if he could help it. Besides, Arthur could feel that it was cold shackles holding his hands behind his back and a glance had revealed it was also chains on his feet. He would only make matters worse if he tried to struggle now.

As it was, Odin didn’t keep them moving for much longer. Of course, Arthur had no idea how far they had already travelled for he didn’t know how long he had been unconscious for. When the door was pushed open and the last remnants of daylight spilled into the carriage, Arthur smirked under the gag. It had been afternoon when he had been taken. The knights could be right behind them.

Mithian was pushed out, clearly into the waiting grip of soldiers. Odin bent around, seizing Arthur by the hair as he yanked him up. Tears of pain sprang to Arthur’s eyes, but luckily no one saw as Odin threw him from the carriage.

“Don’t get your hopes up. You forget who I am working with. Morgana has assured me that we are untraceable. There will be no rescue for you anytime soon.”

Leaving Arthur on the ground with a man standing over him with a sword drawn, Odin moved a few paces away. For a few moments, he seemed to be laughing and talking with his men and Arthur realised escape was going to be even harder when he saw the soldiers genuinely seemed to respect Odin and want to follow him. Shifting awkwardly on his bound hands, Arthur found himself glancing around, checking out the terrain. But then he sighed, shaking his head to himself. He couldn’t leave Mithian. He couldn’t run.

The sound of jeering laughter made him force his attention on what was happening. Odin had lowered his breeches – far lower than necessary – in order to relieve himself. His soldier had grabbed Mithian’s chin and forced her to watch. But Arthur noted with a grin she had simply shut her eyes. She was still defiant; she could still escape with him.

The enemy king made a show of finishing up and by the time he turned back, Mithian had opened her eyes and looked as if she had watched the whole thing. Odin smirked in satisfaction, leaving himself unlaced. To Arthur’s relief, he ignored the princess though. Arthur was still on his back, chained and gagged with a soldier standing over him, the tip of his sword resting just below Arthur’s chin. If Odin had wanted to turn on Mithian, Arthur was acutely aware that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

But it seemed the princess wasn’t his prize for now. Odin stalked back towards the carriage, but it was only when he almost reached it did Arthur realise he had that wrong. It wasn’t his carriage that Odin was returning to, but Arthur. For a long moment, the man just stood over his prisoner, his breeches still undone and a condescending sneer on his face. He didn’t say anything, but just nodded to Arthur’s guard. The soldier didn’t seem to need more of an order than that, for he shifted position and grabbed Arthur’s shirt, hauling him into a kneeling position. His sword returned to rest across Arthur’s neck – a clear warning if he should try and struggle – while Odin stepped closer. His hands held Arthur’s face for a moment, his grip tight, yet the younger king refused to wince. Eventually, Odin’s fingers slid under the gag and he pulled it out.

To Arthur’s horror, the man ran a thumb over his bottom lip, prising his mouth open as he did so.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted revenge on you?” He muttered, his voice too low for his men to hear. Arthur yanked his head away, mindful of the sword. But Odin wouldn’t have gone to all of this trouble just to have Arthur killed the second he started resisting. It was a warning and a threat, but nothing more than that.

“About as long as I have,” Arthur snarled in response. This was the man who had killed his father. His son had left him no choice; he had challenged Arthur for all to see and then refused to back down when Arthur had given him the choice, both before and during the fight. It seemed he would rather die than lose and Arthur had known it was kill or be killed. But Uther’s death was nothing more than murder and the hatred in his heart had grown for this enemy king every night since.

Odin chuckled in response, his hands leaving Arthur. But to Arthur’s horror, they moved only to tug his breeches further down, revealing a hardening cock. Knowing what was coming, Arthur clamped his jaw shut and locked every muscle rigid. He was not going to let this happen.

“Open your mouth,” Odin said, his voice low. Arthur shook his head, not letting up the tension. Odin grabbed his chin, angling him to face Mithian. He gave another nod at his men and they shoved her forward. Mithian cried out as she fell, but the men already had hold of her, forcing her over a fallen log. Two held her bound arms out in front of her while one rested his hands on the back of her thighs.

“I don’t care if she is a virgin or a whore, she’ll suit my purposes fine however. Open your mouth or I’ll teach the princess what it’s like to have a real man in her life, right here out in the open.”

Arthur stared, his heart sinking. Mithian twisted her head around to face him and although Arthur could see that she was trying to be brave, her eyes were wide and terrified. Once they escaped from this – for they were going to escape – her whole life could be ruined if the men touched her. He knew that he had no choice.

He didn’t open his mouth, but he let the tension go from his jaw. Odin seemed to see the muscle loosening for he smirked in satisfaction, seizing Arthur’s jaw and forcing his mouth open. That was the only warning the young king got before his enemy’s cock had hit the back of his throat.

The sword from his neck had disappeared as Odin seized hold of his hair, thrusting sharply. Arthur couldn’t breathe, tears flooding his eyes as he gagged against the intrusion, instinctively trying to pull away. But Odin’s grip was too strong and the soldier behind him blocked any real movement. He had no choice but to take it, for he was sure it wouldn’t be him but Mithian who would pay the price if he carried out his thoughts of biting down as hard as he could.

He didn’t know how long it lasted for, but it seemed to take an age before he remembered to breathe through his nose. It was easier when he no longer felt like he was about to pass out, but Odin had good self-control and Arthur knew he was deliberately making it last so he could take it out on his enemy. His jaw was screaming at him and his throat was burning, but finally, Odin held still, his cock pulsing as he spilled down Arthur’s throat.

When he pulled out and let go, Arthur fell to one side, coughing and retching as he struggled to breathe. Gentle hands touched him and he realised the men had let Mithian go and she was crouched next to him. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes held her sorrow at what had happened along with a promise that she was with him until the end. Arthur managed a smile and tasted blood; his lip was bleeding in more than one place from the rough treatment.

Odin gave them a moment, but Arthur knew it was because he was sure they couldn’t do anything. Unfortunately, he was right. Arthur was still struggling to breathe – the time it would take them to get to their feet and try and run would be far too long.

“Let us continue,” Odin sneered, finally lacing his breeches and grabbing hold of Mithian once again. He threw her back into the carriage and shut the door before turning to glare at Arthur.

“You’ve had as much rest as I’m ever going to give you,” he muttered, nodding to his men. A sword crashed into the back of Arthur’s head, not hard enough for him to pass out but hard enough for him to offer no resistance as they unlocked the shackles around his wrists. His arms were pulled in front of him before being secured again. They unbound his feet but left him on the floor. Still on his knees, Arthur managed to blink the stars out of his vision even as the soldiers set about threading a loop of rope through the chains and making sure it was secured to the horse.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” Arthur spat. He didn’t understand why Odin hadn’t just run him through while he had the chance. The man must know that even with holding Mithian as a hostage, Arthur was going to try and escape. And by taking them both it meant he would not only have the knights of Camelot following them, but any men that Rodor had managed to gather together as well. He would not abandon his daughter, just the way Mithian had gone through with this whole thing in order to keep her father safe.

“Why would I want to do that when I have a much better use for you?”

Arthur felt himself pale as Odin gestured to himself. Surely he couldn’t be thinking of keeping Arthur alive just to use him? But then the king stepped forward, dismissing his guards with just a flick of his hand and crouching down besides Arthur.

“Don’t worry, I am going to kill you. But first you’re going to help me.”

“If you think…” Arthur hated the way his voice was hoarse; it was too much of an indication of what had just happened. He was just glad that none of his knights had been here to witness his humiliation. Or Merlin… Arthur just about managed to suppress his shudder over what a man like Odin would do to someone like Merlin. For the first time since his servant’s accident, Arthur was glad he had been left behind.

“You’re not going to get a choice in it. You being alive meant I lost an heir. So with your death I’m going to ensure that I get a new one.” Odin straightened up, staring down at his prisoner for a long moment before driving his foot straight into Arthur’s side. He had no chance at staying upright as the air was driven from his lungs and he toppled onto his side.

Odin stalked back to the carriage and the slamming of the door was the only warning that Arthur got about what was going to happen. He managed to make it back to his knees before the movement jerked him forward and he fell again. Gritting his teeth, he swore to himself that Odin was not going to have this satisfaction. He was not going to be dragged.

It took a great deal of effort considering the speed that the carriage had already made it to. But finally Arthur managed to scramble to his feet, aware that there was now blood running down his legs from where rocks had cut into him. He could barely feel the sting however and ignored it, knowing no one was going to check if he was hurt or not. But while the carriage had seemed to be travelling at a great speed when Arthur had been behind it, now he was walking he could keep a steady pace. He knew he was young and fit; he would be able to keep this up for hours.

But if they did travel for hours, Arthur knew he would be exhausted when they got to their destination, especially as it had already been hours since he had eaten or drunk something. Escape would be even harder and Arthur knew he would have to think about this carefully, especially if Odin insisted on keeping him separated from Mithian.

While his body fell into the rhythm of walking, Arthur let his mind drift. He was trying to think of where they could be going, whether the knights would have noticed or not… As the thoughts bounced around his head, he thought back to what Odin had said about the tracks. If magic was being used, Arthur knew he was going to have to do something. With his hands chained, his options were limited. But then Arthur realised he could use the cuffs to his advantage. Letting his sleeve catch against it, he ripped hard and to his delight, a strip of fabric tore lose. He let it flutter to the floor and just hoped his knights had at least started in the right direction.

But even though he repeated the process a few times whenever he thought he could risk it, Arthur found shivers running down his spine as he thought about what Odin had said about him. By the sounds of it, it was some sort of ritual. With any talk of magic being forbidden throughout most of his life, Arthur had no idea what type. But with Odin working with Morgana, he knew the pair of them would make sure it was successful. And if that was the case, there would be no chance of him surviving.

Somehow, Arthur knew that he was going to have to find a way out of this. But chained to a moving carriage as darkness fell meant his thoughts were limited as he focused on just not tripping over something and not being able to get up again.

He refused to give in to despair though. He was the King of Camelot; he could – and would – survive this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finds out what is in store for him and Mithian when they arrive at Odin's stronghold.

Arthur swayed and nearly fell as he finally was given the opportunity to stand still. Darkness had completely fallen and he knew it was late at night by now. Odin must have been anxious to reach whatever stronghold he had in mind to keep going for so long and the thought gave Arthur strength. If Odin wanted to be behind a wall before stopping, it meant he wasn’t as confident about there not being a pursuit as he had wanted Arthur to believe.

It meant Odin didn’t entirely trust Morgana, and that gave Arthur a weakness he could work with.

But right now, the only thought in his mind was not giving the man the satisfaction of seeing how exhausted Arthur was as the carriage door opened. Mithian was pushed out, but she instantly looked around for Arthur and that was the king’s sign that she was alright. If Odin had hurt her, if he had violated her, Arthur knew even a strong princess like Mithian could only stand so much. She had only taken a single step towards him before Odin hauled her back and pushed her into the waiting grip of his men.

“She is your new Queen, treat her as such,” he ordered before giving them a signal to move Mithian inside. Arthur watched, feeling numb, as she struggled and screamed in their grip, doing everything she could in order to get away. He was too tired to react, his body reminding him how long it had been since he had eaten or drunk. His throat still burnt from Odin’s earlier assault.

Odin didn’t touch him this time. He just stood in front of him, his head tilted to one side and examining Arthur the way one would examine a horse. Arthur told himself that he didn’t care and simply focused his attention on not keeling over right there and then.

“Take him in. String him up.” Odin ordered, walking away. Arthur watched him go, barely noticing the guards fumbling for the ropes that kept him bound to the carriage.

They weren’t in Odin’s usual castle, Arthur knew that much as he was forced inside. He was too exhausted to struggle, which was no doubt what Odin had been hoping for all along. But that didn’t mean he was defenceless and Arthur kept a careful note of all the twists and turns they took. If it wasn’t their usual castle, it meant there was a chance the guards didn’t know it any better than he did and Arthur knew he could work that to his advantage.

But a new wave of energy consumed him when he was forced into a lush bedroom and knew this would be Odin’s own. Two men held him still while a third attached his cuffs to a chain. It ran through a grove in the wall and before Arthur could even call out, his arms had been raised in the air to such an extent that he was balancing on tiptoes. He tried lashing out as a soldier came closer, but all he managed to do was unbalance himself and make his already sore wrists take all of his weight as he tried to get his feet back under him.

The soldiers used the chance to pull his boots off, tossing them to one side. When Arthur had stopped swinging, he felt the cold steel of a blade pricking against his back, but didn’t realise what they were doing until they had cut and torn his shirt off him. In a way, he was glad; they had made such a mess of it there would be no knowing now that he had been tearing off strips on the way.  But then he realised they were making a start on his breeches as well.

“No,” he muttered, trying to fight them off. But all they did was step out of his reach until he had fallen still again and continued. It didn’t seem to bother them how long it took, they didn’t stop until Arthur was left hanging there completely naked.

Then they left.

Swallowing down his fear and forcing himself to think of escape plans rather than how Odin had forced himself on him earlier that day, Arthur tried to calm his breathing. It was his way of controlling the situation.

But he jerked involuntarily when he heard Odin laughing from down the corridor, seconds before the door burst open and the king walked in. There was a woman plastered to his side, but Odin simply shoved her towards the bed. There was no affection there, one of his many whores, no doubt. Arthur kept his gaze fixed pointedly ahead, trying not to show his reaction as Odin circled him.

He couldn’t. however, control his cry when Odin’s hand suddenly grabbed him and twisted painfully. Tears sprung to his eyes and Arthur’s face burnt at the whimper that escaped him.

“You don’t know this feeling yet, boy. You think five years is long enough to feel the helplessness of realising your queen won’t give you a child? Try a lifetime of it, knowing your true heir was murdered.”

“He challenged me,” Arthur rasped out, wondering if struggling would make Odin let go or hold tighter. His words hurt though; he had only taken a queen to conceive an heir. Gwen knew his heart (and most of the time, his bed) belonged to another.

“He challenged me,” Odin mocked, his voice high and dripping with loathing. He stepped back and before Arthur could say anything, backhanded him hard.

“Guards!”

Arthur locked his jaw and stared at the far wall. He wouldn’t give Odin the satisfaction of seeing him react.

“The little king here is looking far too perfect for my liking,” Odin spat, reaching forward and pinching a nipple hard. Arthur didn’t let a sound escape him, although it was hard to hide his relief at the fact it meant Odin had let go of him lower down.

“Beat him.” His orders given, Odin moved back to the bed.

Arthur forced himself to zone out as the men went to work on him. He grunted when he felt a rib crack at one point, but other than that he refused to make another sound. Instead, he let his mind fill with images of those he loved. After some time, it was just one person. So when Odin finally called his men off, the image of Merlin’s cheeky grin as he smirked up at Arthur from where he was lounging nude on the king’s bed was still firmly in his mind.

The men backed away, one of them slapping Arthur to bring him back to the here and now. They hadn’t even seemed to care their victim hadn’t been paying any attention. But now he was aware of his surroundings again, Arthur was just aware of quite how much he hurt. He wasn’t sure anywhere had been saved their blows and it was hard to see with one eye swollen shut and the other throbbing.

But he forced himself to focus. He knew it was one thing to zone out while the beating continued, but if he didn’t focus now, he could miss information that would aid him in an escape. Pulling on his training, Arthur forced the pain away.

Only to wish for it to come back when he realised that Odin was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him intently. His hands were resting on the blankets, but his breeches were open and his whore was knelt between his legs, her mouth at work. Odin smirked when he saw that Arthur was paying attention and with one touch to her head, gestured her away. But she only pulled back a little, twisting so she was sprawled across the floor and watching Arthur closely.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Odin crowed. Arthur took in her soft skin, dark curls and wide brown eyes. It was all a game. Odin was playing with him.

“I thought she might make you feel at home. Stop you missing your wife so much.” Odin clicked his fingers and the girl crawled across to Arthur, her hands skirting across his thighs. Not one part of Arthur’s body revealed if he had any interest in her or not, not even when he felt her breast pressed against his leg.

“No?” Odin had been watching closely and his smirk deepened. “Well, I thought you would like to know that I find her beautiful. And when my new queen is too heavy with my child for me to fuck, I’m going to have your queen. On her knees just the way this whore is.” He kicked out, sending the girl to one side and called for the guards.

They came, but were pulling a resistant youth with them. A young man with dark hair and pale skin. Arthur looked away.

“You forget who my informant is. I wasn’t sure finding a close match to your wife would be enough, so I found one like your lover as well. From what Morgana tells me, this lad might even have his spirit.”

Arthur’s heart went out to the boy. He was struggling desperately as the guards tied him to the bed, but there was nothing he could do. The girl disappeared with the guards.

“Don’t,” Arthur said, watching as Odin prepared to force himself on the young man. Odin glanced over, a smirk on his face.

“Want him for yourself? He’s your type, isn’t he?”

“No. Let him go, he’s not one of your whores,” Arthur’s voice was quiet and he saw the anger flash over Odin’s face. The boy had twisted to watch Arthur intently, his eyes locked on Arthur’s as if it was a lifeline in a churning ocean. Arthur smiled briefly at him before turning his attention back to Odin. He might have been naked and chained, beaten and vulnerable, but right now he knew he had as much power in the room as the enemy king.

“This doesn’t hurt me,” he lied smoothly, “so what does it achieve apart from making another of your subjects hate you?”

Odin stood up, walking close enough to grab Arthur’s chin.

“He’s not my subject, he’s yours. We pulled him from your precious Camelot, just as a welcoming gift.”

“What do you want from me?” Arthur retorted. Odin had said that he was going to kill him. But why all these games? Why didn’t he get on with it? Odin sighed, rolling his eyes.

“That princess is going to be my queen and she is going to bear me a son. There is an ancient ritual, one that guarantees an heir without fail. But it takes the blood of a king, all his blood, to work. Needless to say, I haven’t had many of them lining up to sacrifice themselves. And then you became king. You and your honour and self-belief it was never your fault. So you’re going to die, knowing I will have an heir and an unstoppable kingdom. Then I’ll take your kingdom for Morgana and fuck your queen like you should have been doing all this time.”

Arthur stared at him. He had never heard of such a ritual.

“But I need the full moon for it to work. So I’ve got you as my guest for a few days. Enough time to show you what I will do to your lover.”

And then Arthur knew that he had only bought the boy a little time. For Odin moved fast, impaling the lad without a warning and laughing over his screams as he fucked him brutally. Arthur looked away, tears in his eyes. Both for the pain the boy was experiencing and the fact that it was his fault. But anger was rising within him; no one was going to touch Merlin, nor Gwen.

He wasn’t going to be sacrificed.

Using the noises as a means of distracting, he looped his hands around the chains and lifted his feet from the floor, using his entire weight to try and wrench them free. The metal cut sharply into his wrists and Arthur grunted at the pain, especially as his rib was jostled in his movement. He knew he was never going to break free of the actual chains, but he hoped there would be a link lose enough somewhere that he could at least be freed from the ceiling.

In a way, he was lucky Odin was as sadistic as he was. For while Arthur struggled to free himself, the king was focusing all of his attention on the youth below him. It meant he didn’t notice when Arthur’s wish finally came true and a link weakened enough for his weight to pull the chains free. He was still cuffed and still had a length of chain dangling from each wrist, but he was no longer bound to the ceiling.

He reacted instantly, swinging a loop of the chain straight at Odin. His aim was true and the man only had time to stiffen in surprise before he toppled off the bed, unconscious. Arthur made short work of wrenching free the straps holding down the boy and both shakily dressed. Arthur only pulled on his breeches, knowing his shirt was ruined and it would get caught in the cuffs anyway. Instead, he tore off a few strips and got the boy to help him wrap it around his chest in order to support his ribs.

“Come on,” he murmured quietly, opening the door. A few swift blows later and both guards were as out cold as their master. They clearly hadn’t been expecting an escape. Checking the corridor, Arthur put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Can you find your way out?” He asked, making sure his voice. He could feel the boy trembling. He nodded.

“Then go, you’ll be safer if you’re not with me.”

“But…”

“Go,” this time, there was a hint of an order in his voice and the boy ran off. Arthur watched as long as he could to make sure he was safe. If he was found on his own, the chances are the guards wouldn’t know who he was. If he was found with Arthur, however, it would almost certainly spell death. But once the boy was out of sight, Arthur knew he had done all he could. He had to find Mithian.

Somehow, he managed to avoid the guards patrolling the corridors. They were loud and undisciplined, laughing amongst themselves as they paced. Arthur always had enough warning they were coming in order to hide somewhere. It also meant that he was checking the rooms as he moved, only to find they were all empty.

Finally, however, he came across one that was locked. A quick check revealed the guards were far enough away not to either see or hear the commotion. Backing up, Arthur rammed his shoulder against the door, almost howling at the pain in his ribs as he did so. But the door didn’t open and he knew he would have to do it again.

In the end, it took three attempts before he was able to stand back and kick sharply above the lock. The door flew open and Arthur hurried in. He had managed to loop his chains around his arms to stop them dragging after him and as soon as he knew everything was clear, he shut the door again.

He turned just in time to stop Mithian gauging his eye out with her nails.

“Oh, it’s you.” She said as Arthur simply stared at her, his hand still enclosing her wrist. He slowly let go and soon as he had done so, the princess burst into tears. She quickly backed away and wiped her eyes. The chink of a chain made him look down and Arthur could see a slender one wrapped around her ankle.

“Been giving them hell?” he said softly and Mithian smiled, trying to pull herself together.

“No more than you,” she whispered, trying to disguise the tremor in her voice. Arthur knew it was just shock and he ignored it, bending down so he could get a better look. He couldn’t stop the wince escaping him as he did so.

“You’re hurt,” Mithian said, reaching up to cup his face. Her fingers gently outlined a bruise, but Arthur could see her eyes were on the bandage around his chest.

“Are you?” He asked in response, deflecting the question. Her cuff was slender compared to his and it only took a little force before he got it off. Instantly, Mithian hurried across to a far corner of the room and Arthur watched in bemusement as she picked up something that looked like hair slides.

“Really?”

“Don’t be silly, they took them off me,” she murmured, crouching next to him again. A few seconds later and Arthur knew why as his shackles fell free. He rubbed his wrists, straightened up and offered her his hand.

“Let’s get out of here,” he declared and Mithian nodded. Creeping to the door, Arthur inched it open and carefully checked the corridor. He knew he was going to have to be more cautious now Mithian was with him, but when he knew the coast was clear, they slipped from the room.

Not letting go of her hand, Arthur had to admit he was impressed with how she just followed his lead, keeping silent and reacting every time he did. Before long, Arthur recognised the large hall in front as the welcome hall, one he had been dragged through.

“We’re going to have to run,” he whispered, knowing it offered no cover and would most likely be watched. Mithian nodded, then leant up and kissed his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“You know,” she murmured, smiling, “everything.”

Arthur grinned back and tightened his grip on her hand.

“Ready?” Waiting until Mithian had nodded, Arthur took a deep breath and ran, pulling the princess along with him and keeping his eyes set on the large door that would lead to their freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

How they did it, Arthur had no idea. But somehow they made it across the hallway and out of the front door. Soldiers were shooting at them, but Arthur realised as an arrow grazed the top of his shoulder that they were only aiming at him. It seemed they had taken to heart Odin’s orders to treat Mithian like a queen. Realising that gave them more of a chance, Arthur had simply pushed her in front of him and continued to urge her to run.

They made it back out into the forest. Arthur had no idea where they were, but he could see the tracks the horses and carriage had made when they had arrived. It seemed following them back again would be the best thing they could do. Slipping his hand back into Mithian’s, he smiled reassuringly.

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered and she nodded in agreement. They kept at a run, knowing they wouldn’t be safe until they were out of sight from the castle. Then at least the soldiers would have to search for them rather than knowing where they were going. But after an hour had passed, Arthur slowed.

His ribs were hurting, making breathing hard and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace, the beating the men had given him was slowing him too much. There was concern in Mithian’s eyes, but Arthur was glad she didn’t say anything. There was nothing she could do to help him out here, pity was just a waste of breath right now. But he would rather slow to a walk and keep moving than run a little further and then have to stop completely.

“They’ll be coming after us,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “You know my knights, they are not ones to give up just because they can’t find us. And your father… he’ll be coming.”

Mithian nodded, but Arthur could see that she was pale. There was no denying the ordeal was beginning to take its toll on her, but Arthur knew he wasn’t the best person at reassurance. Without her to protect, he might have stood and fought, drawn Odin out and finally enacted the revenge he had wanted to inflict since his father’s death. But he couldn’t. It was his responsibility to keep her safe and it was that thought lodged firmly in his mind that made him keep putting one foot in front of the other.

They hadn’t made it much further when Arthur couldn’t deny what he was hearing. Slowly, he turned, only to see the horizon lined with horsemen coming after them. It seemed the alarm had been raised, maybe Odin had even regained consciousness. Trying to keep his voice calm, Arthur squeezed Mithian’s hand.

“Run.” He muttered simply and she glanced back towards the castle herself. A gasp escaped her but then she turned on her heel and fled down the road. Arthur was right on her heels.

At least, he was for a few moments. He didn’t know what happened, but it was as if a force had wrapped around his ankle and the next step he tried to take had him falling with a cry, his hand instantly cradling it. Mithian tried to pull him up and Arthur thought he was going to black out when he put weight on his ankle.

“I think it’s broken,” he gasped, clutching at her shoulder to try and stay upright.

“Can you move?”

He gritted his teeth, nodding. He managed a few hobbling steps but the pain was too much. Another glance back at the horses and he suddenly knew what had happened. For riding in front of them, obvious by the black she was clad in, was Morgana. It seemed she wasn’t about to let him escape.

“Go,” Arthur hissed, shoving Mithian away from him. “You have to run.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Go and get help. Lead them here. I’ll hold them off.”

Mithian looked like she wanted to argue further, but the horses were closer now. It was now or never and she had the sense to know it. To Arthur’s surprise, she leant forward and kissed him on the forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” she vowed, before gathering her skirts and fleeing. Arthur managed to hobble over to the nearest tree, sinking down it with his eyes shut for a moment. The pain was agonising and he knew it was no ordinary break. Morgana knew what pain he could handle and was making sure that he couldn’t run. But he could still buy Mithian some time.

Searching around, it didn’t take long before he had a small pile of pebbles resting next to him. He had to wait until the horses were in range, but then Arthur found himself throwing as hard as he could. The leading horsemen all fell from their steeds, but Arthur knew better than to aim for Morgana. She would be shielded in some way; he had to focus on the men and stopping them going after Mithian.

They were almost upon him when he ran out of stones. Grabbing a branch, Arthur hauled himself upright and swung it as hard as he could. It collided with the man in the lead, tumbling him from the saddle. Arthur leapt for it, realising this was his way out. He would have made it as well if a gust of air hadn’t caught him in the chest and flung him back. He hit the same tree that had just been his support, but rather than sinking down it, he found himself pinned.

He looked to Morgana, only to find the witch had her hand outstretched and her eyes burning as she kept him in place.

“Find her,” she ordered, instantly causing five men to take to the road. Arthur tried struggling, but Morgana just increased the pressure.

“Odin promised I can make the first cuts,” she hissed, her face twisted in pleasure at the thought of his death. Arthur stilled and simply stared at the woman that he had once called sister.

“Go on then,” he goaded. He would rather die out here in the forest than knowing that his death had aided his enemy in any way. “I dare you to.”

He knew those words would grate on her. How many times had they dared each other to do things growing up? Stealing from the kitchens. Lying to Uther about something. Morgana hated to lose and her eyes flashed. Arthur felt the pressure on him increase, especially around his neck and he smirked.

“My Lady.”

It was one of the soldiers who had spoken, his voice soft. It was enough for Morgana to remember where she was, however, and Arthur tried to not let the disappoint show on his face when he felt the pressure disappear completely. Not expecting it, he fell forward and only just bit back a cry when his ankle tried to take his weight, only to crumble beneath him and send him to his knees.

“You don’t get it that easy, dear brother,” Morgana spat, turning her horse and galloping away without a backwards glance. The men converged on him before Arthur had even cleared the stars from his vision. The bindings were tight and cruel this time, the rope cutting into his wrists as it held them securely behind his back. They weren’t taking any chances with him this time, for as soon as it became apparent he wouldn’t be able to walk, Arthur found himself draped over a horse, head hanging and a soldier rested a hand on the back of his neck to stop him from throwing himself off.

The pain was agonising on his ribs and every step the horse took had him biting back a groan. They moved slower this time, knowing they had caught their master’s prize and that Mithian wouldn’t have got far. Realising he had failed, Arthur surrendered to the pain and let darkness claim him.

It meant he didn’t see the look of pure fury on Odin’s face when he was brought back in. The king had blood running down the side of his face and it was only Morgana’s reminder of the ritual that stopped Odin from killing him on the spot.

But it also meant that he woke up chained in a cold dungeon, once again having been stripped. There was no food or water nearby and heavy chains bound him to the wall by his wrists, ankle (they had luckily left his wounded one unshackled) and – to Arthur’s horror – neck. He could barely even move, only the shivers wracking his body as he began to slowly surrender to the cold. He knew he wouldn’t be getting out this time.

Odin left him there for over a day. Arthur was barely conscious when the guards came for him. They unlocked the chains, grabbing an arm each as they hauled him from the dungeons. Arthur didn’t struggle, he didn’t have the fight left in him. He just tried to not black out again as he was forced up some steps, through the castle and out into the cold night’s air. The dungeon had been no warmer though and his mind was too far gone in order to appreciate the difference in temperature. The fresh air, however, did help to revive him a little and he looked up to see a stone altar waiting for him. Odin was standing next to it, a knife in his hand and a wicked grin on his face.

Turning his eyes skyward, Arthur could see that it was a clear night. Stars were shining down on the clearing, but so was the full moon. His time was up.

He tried to free himself as the men pushed him onto the altar, but days of no food had taken their toll and it was with a mocking ease they held him down. Thick leather straps held his wrists level with his head. His ankles, waist and chest were similarly bound and Arthur knew struggling was pointless. He couldn’t even arch up as a final strap was secured across his forehead. All he could do was stare at the stars and hope that Odin made it quick.

He knew the man wouldn’t though.

“Any final words, little king?” Odin mocked, moving so that he was in Arthur’s eyeline. The only thing that Arthur was grateful for was that he was too exhausted to show his fear over being carved open while tied down. He just blinked at Odin, his expression blank before turning his gaze to the stars and letting his mind drift.

“You’re a fool if you think you can take Camelot,” he murmured, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice was. It made him acutely aware that he hadn’t had anything to drink either. He just hoped that meant he was too weak in order for Odin to get what he wanted. The man’s eyes flashed with anger in the darkness and he gestured to one of his soldiers. Before Arthur had even seen the movement, a final leather strap had been forced into his mouth, cutting the corners of his lips and silencing him.

“You know nothing,” Odin hissed, stepping back again. Knowing this was his end, Arthur didn’t pay any attention as Morgana started the ritual. He just wished they would get on with it already rather than the lengthy incantations that seemed to be spilling from her lips.

He took that back, however, when he felt the first bite of the knife. Odin wasn’t wasting time, he went straight for Arthur’s wrists. First one arm, then the other, he dragged the blade across. Arthur shut his eyes, letting images of those he loved swim before his closed lids as he felt the blood pour from the wounds. Already he was weakening, he wouldn’t be able to last long like this.

And he would be damned if Odin’s face was the last thing he saw. Instead, he summoned Merlin’s image to his mind and felt himself relax.

To start with, Arthur thought he was hallucinating. That the pain and exhaustion had finally got to him and because he was trying to imagine Merlin’s face, it was bringing more to mind than just that. But as he lay there, tied down with his wrists bleeding freely, Arthur was convinced he could hear the man’s voice, whispering through the trees.

Knowing he had to know for sure, Arthur opened his eyes. He couldn’t see Morgana and Odin had moved further down his body. Pain dulled his senses, but the voice was still there. Frowning, Arthur found himself becoming more alert as he focused on it, trying to work out where it was coming from. Odin seemed to notice his prisoner had become more lucid, for a frown was visible even in the dim light. Arthur saw him start, then look around himself and that was when he knew. Somehow, Merlin was here.

“Hurry,” Morgana hissed, gesturing for Odin to get on with the ritual. “Go for the vein in his leg, he’ll bleed quicker.” Hating that she was right, Arthur tried to squirm away, knowing he had to buy Merlin some time. Morgana couldn’t find out about his magic. It was why it was still a secret from the kingdom – Merlin hadn’t wanted to give Morgana the chance to research ways she could use it against him. But Arthur knew, and just hoped the way Merlin’s voice deepened when he was casting meant she wouldn’t recognise where the source was coming from.

“Emrys,” Morgana spat, making Arthur jump. The tiniest of movements, but it was potentially enough to save his life. Odin had stabbed forward at the same time, but Arthur’s jerk meant that he missed the vein. Instead, the knife just sunk into his leg and Arthur’s teeth bit down hard on the leather in his mouth in order to not scream. It hurt like hell, but Odin’s cursing meant it hadn’t done the desired job. He wouldn’t be bleeding to death from that wound.

But even as Odin pulled the dagger out again, Arthur realised it might not matter. He was losing too much blood from his wrists. Merlin’s interruption was going to be for nothing unless he did something soon. Arthur could feel his vision dimming even though he was fighting to stay conscious and knew that if he passed out this time, there could be no waking up for him.

Luckily, it seemed that Merlin –wherever he was – had the same thought. The chanting stopped before a harsh word rang out through the clearing. Odin gave a yell as he was bodily thrown back from the altar but didn’t get up again when he landed hard. Morgana’s shriek cut through Arthur’s pounding head the way Odin’s dagger had sliced into his leg, but she too disappeared from his eyeline. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then came the sound of hurried footsteps and Arthur found himself sagging in relief as Merlin entered his vision for real this time.

The man was pale, and Arthur could have sworn he lost even more colour when he saw the state of his king. But Arthur barely noticed. He had a strange sensation of floating and even when Merlin ungagged him and began loosening the straps holding Arthur down, he couldn’t feel himself return to his body.

Merlin’s hands ran over his body, clearly searching for wounds other than the obvious ones. Arthur didn’t remember reacting, but Merlin’s hand hovered over both his ribs and his ankle and he knew his servant had found every scratch on him. But then Merlin’s hand slipped into one of Arthur’s and he gently let his palm hover over first one wrist, then another. A word stole from his lips and the second Arthur saw his eyes flash in the darkness, he knew it was over. A warmth settled into him for the first time in days and he felt the bleeding stop. Merlin had never properly mastered healing spells, but he could at least do a few things. He couldn’t mend bones or heal cuts, but he could at least help the wounds clot. Arthur felt him repeat the process on the other wrist, then the wound in his leg before finally a hand was brushing his hair back from his forehead and a pair of lips brushed his skin.

“Come on,” Merlin whispered, “I need to get you out of here before they wake up. The knights are on their way. Can you walk?”

Arthur nodded, despite knowing it was a lie. Still, he managed to shift his body around and put his good foot on the floor. Merlin suddenly swore and hurried off, leaving Arthur standing there, wobbling and bewildered. But when his servant returned, Arthur smiled in gratitude as the stolen cape was wrapped around his body, concealing his nakedness and helping him warm through. Then Merlin slid under his arm, taking Arthur’s weight.

“Mithian?” Arthur whispered, realising that talking was beyond him right now. He felt Merlin shifted his position in order to encourage Arthur to lean on him a little more.

“She’s safe. She managed to avoid her pursuers and they ran straight into us. I’ve never seen Leon look so pleased about killing someone. We found her a few hours later, the knights are just up the road making plans to storm the castle.”

Arthur shook his head, amused. Why did it not surprise him that Merlin hadn’t waited around for plans but had just acted? But still, Arthur couldn’t be angry. Not when he knew it had just saved his life, the knights wouldn’t have got here in time and Merlin wouldn’t have been able to use magic to stop the blood.

“I’m glad,” he whispered, knowing Merlin would know what he meant.

“Let’s go home.”

Arthur could do nothing but agree. But as he stepped forward, the ordeal finally got too much and he fell into blackness. Only this time, warm arms were there to catch him.


	4. Chapter 4

“It was not my fault.”

Arthur chuckled at the whine that escaped from Merlin and glanced down at the man curled into his side. He was pouting and clinging onto Arthur’s shirt as if he was a child, the complete opposite to the powerful warlock who had single-handedly taken on Odin’s men and rescued Arthur from the brink of death.

Arthur had no idea what happened once he had blacked out, content in the knowledge that Merlin was here and so that meant he was safe. He hadn’t woken up until he was back in his bed in Camelot… where he still was even though it was a few days later.

One leg was propped up on a pile of pillows, a thick wrap of bandages around his ankle and another set tied further up his leg where Odin had stabbed him. Apparently the break had been bad, but judging by the looks that passed between Merlin and Gaius, Arthur knew it would heal without any complications. Gaius had seemed to have been able to caution Merlin enough so that Arthur wasn’t just miraculously healed, but the king couldn’t complain – he knew the sort of break Morgana had delivered him could have been enough to leave him crippled if it hadn’t been set right, especially not with spending a few nights in the dungeons as well.

The bandages continued up his body. Right now, he had managed to slip a shirt on for the first time since regaining consciousness and it felt like a big deal. Despite Merlin gripping it, Arthur knew his lover didn’t agree. But it hid the bandages wrapped around his chest and that helped Arthur forget about the fact he apparently had two broken ribs and an assortment of bruises across his torso. After the events of their escape, the beating before that had actually slipped from Arthur’s mind.

But the worst by far was the thick bandages tied around his wrists. Merlin might have stopped the blood, but it was only just in time and the wounds kept trying to re-open. Arthur had no strength at all and Gaius told him it could be the best part of a week before he would be able to get up unaided. He had lost a lot of blood and had to give himself time to recover from that. Not that Arthur knew where he was supposed to go when he could move; it wasn’t as if his ankle would support his weight.

It was his lack of strength that had led to Merlin’s current pout.

“Well, whose fault was it then?” Gwen teased, her eyes sparkling as she dipped the spoon into the soup. Merlin had decided that he should be the one to help Arthur eat as he was still technically his manservant, but it hadn’t taken long before the king and queen had realised it was going to end in disaster and Gwen had quickly taken over. Arthur hated the fact that he was that weak he needed help eating, but he had the two people he loved – and who loved him – helping. It always surprised him that Gwen didn’t mind Arthur only came to her bed when duty called, but then he had seen the looks she had been sharing with Lancelot and knew why.

They might not be able to act on their love the way he did with Merlin, but at least he knew he hadn’t broken her heart.

But what surprised him more was that neither Gwen nor Merlin seemed to mind that Arthur spent half his time in bed with one of them and the other half with the other. They had always been good friends, but it was only now – watching them squabble over who was better looking after him – that made him realise their feelings were genuine.

“Arthur’s fault for being such a baby and refusing to eat,” Merlin continued. His pout just made Arthur smile and he combed his fingers through his lover’s hair, feeling Merlin sigh in satisfaction as he did so.

“It was hot,” Arthur protested, suddenly realising that he was supposed to be defending himself rather than giving Merlin what he wanted. Gwen, however, took advantage of the fact he had opened his mouth to shove the spoon in and stop him from saying anything else. Arthur pretended to choke and she smiled, shaking her head as she withdrew it again. Arthur knew now why she had been so valuable to Gaius over the years – she just had a way with stubborn patients.

Between the two of them, they managed to get him to eat the soup before it went completely cold. Arthur couldn’t help but pull a face when he had finished – he had been reassured it was full of goodness but that didn’t stop it from tasting disgusting.

_A flash before his eyes, the heavy weight in his mouth, the bitter taste…_

“Arthur,” there was no whine in Merlin’s voice this time, just a command that forced Arthur’s mind from Odin’s attack and back into reality. He blinked, forcing himself to smile. Gwen, however, chose that moment to stand up and straighten her dress.

“I have things to attend to,” she murmured gently, leaning forward and kissing Arthur on the forehead. He took her hand as she moved and pressed his lips to the back of it. Gwen smiled before leaving. Arthur wanted to leave with her, knowing those things involved running a kingdom when he could not.

“Don’t even think about it,” Merlin stretched as he spoke, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. But this time, his hand took Arthur’s and his thumb ran gently across the back of it. “Please don’t.”

Merlin’s first words might have been to stop Arthur from leaving his bed. But the king knew the second phrase was to try and stop him from disappearing back into the nightmare that had been his life for a few days. Luckily, it seemed that Merlin could pick up the signs fast as to when Arthur was about to lose himself and could nearly always pull him back.

Arthur didn’t say anything in response, but just tightened his grip on Merlin’s hand. He couldn’t make promises, not when his eyes seemed to be playing tricks on him. He saw enemies in the corners of his own room and he had a feeling that until he at least begun to heal, things weren’t going to change. Odin hadn’t broken his spirit, but the level of abuse – beating, the dungeons, Morgana, the altar – were taking their toll on him when only Merlin was around to see it.

But with the comforting weight of his lover leaning against his side, it was enough to reassure Arthur that he was safe for now. Before he knew what was happening, he had fallen asleep. And – just in the same way as had been happening for the last few days – found himself falling straight back into a nightmare.

He was suspended in the dungeon, the coldness penetrating his body even in the dream. Odin was in front of him, talking lewdly about what he was going to do to all those Arthur cared about, starting with Arthur himself. As the man took a step towards Arthur’s struggling form, Merlin shook him awake.

“You’re okay, love,” he murmured, pressing his lips against Arthur’s forehead. “He can’t hurt you again.”

“It wasn’t me he was going to hurt, it was you,” Arthur murmured. He recalled at some point asking Leon if they had found the boy, but he had barely been lucid at that point and he wasn’t sure if his knight had fully understood what Arthur was asking. But Merlin was more intune with the king’s feelings and before Arthur could move, Merlin had swung a leg over him until he was straddling Arthur. He stared straight into the king’s eyes but Arthur could tell he was being careful not to catch any of the wounds.

“He’s not going to hurt me. He’s not going to hurt anyone. As soon as you are strong enough, we’re going to show him how he’s messed with the wrong people.”

“He can’t find out about you,” Arthur began, clutching at Merlin as if that could stop him from doing anything rash. But the warlock just had a strange smirk on his face that made him look both powerful and scheming at the same time.

“He won’t.  You do realise even Gwaine is baying for the man’s blood for what he did to you? What he nearly did?”

It was only in the last words that Merlin’s voice cracked and Arthur realised just how deeply this had affected the man. Despite everything they had gone through, Merlin had always held on to some sort of innocent nature that Arthur could only dream of. Seeing his lover tied down and bleeding in such a way would have no doubt affected Merlin deeply.

Not knowing what else to do, Arthur simply pulled him forward until Merlin was where he belonged, in Arthur’s arms. He didn’t sleep this time, but a content silence fell between the two of them for the rest of the afternoon as they came to terms with how close they had come to losing each other.

MMM

“Forgive the interruption, Sire, but she won’t leave until she sees you.”

Arthur glanced up from the reports he was reading. A few more days had passed and he was finally allowed to sit at his table, mainly because Merlin needed to change the bed and Arthur was going mad. His leg was still propped up and he tired easily, but it was better than literally being restricted to the bed.

For all of his years of knowing the man, Arthur wasn’t sure he had ever seen Leon look so exasperated, and that included all the times Arthur used to run off as a child. Arthur found himself grinning, knowing who was causing the problem and put down the report he had been pretending to read.

“Send her in,” he ordered, awkwardly pushing out another chair as best as he could. He ceased the effort when he saw Mithian walking in, knowing she would hate to see him struggling. Arthur smiled and opened his mouth in greeting, but the princess got there first.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, looking close to tears. Arthur simply blinked at her.

“For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would have never have been caught. He would have never been able to…” Her eyes fell to the bandages covering Arthur’s wrists, just visible under the bottom of his sleeves. He tugged them down a little to hide it.

“He would have found a way. I’m not the only one he targeted though, he did have his mind set on making you his queen.” Arthur smiled as Mithian gave a full on shudder at the thought and accepted the chair, sinking into it gratefully.

“Besides, I should be thanking you. You escaped when I could not. It’s thanks to you that my men found me in time.”

“They say that Merlin was the one to find you.”

“He was,” Arthur said gently, knowing there was no point in covering it up. Mithian sighed, a wistful expression crossing her face.

“I’m happy for you. That you’ll always have someone coming for you.”

Arthur made to say that her father had also ventured out with his men, but then he realised by the look on her face that wasn’t who she was thinking of. She wanted someone to love her enough to come after her. Arthur cleared his throat; he wasn’t good at these sorts of things.

“You’ll find someone,” he muttered self-consciously. Mithian glanced up, took one look at his face and started to laugh.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m sorry. I’ve gone and put you in an awkward position again,” her voice was soft and Arthur realised it was the first time that he hadn’t heard her sound haunted by all that had occurred. After all, the ordeal with Odin was only the final straw for Mithian, she had already been forced from her home and have her father held hostage.

Still smiling, Arthur reached across the table and took her hand.

“Never apologise,” he said genuinely. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Mithian had been hurt or even raped. He knew the sort of effect that would have had on the rest of her life. But hopefully now she would be able to return home and slowly begin to put the events of the last few days behind her. She could heal, and Arthur just hoped that knowing she had healed would be the drive to help him. Mithian smiled, resting her cheek against his hand for a moment before taking her leave. Just before she reached the door, however, she turned and looked back at him.

“What he did to you-,” she began hesitantly and Arthur instantly looked away, shame coursing through him. He had been trying to save her, trying to stop the same thing – if not worse – from happening. He was bound and at sword point. But still Arthur felt like he should have stopped Odin from forcing himself on him that way.

“Never be ashamed of it,” she continued, her voice growing in strength when it was clear he was reacting the way Mithian thought he would. “You’re the bravest man I know, Arthur Pendragon. Don’t change.”

With that, she let herself out, her face flaming. Arthur made to pick up his quill again but then found that he had a grin on his face. Maybe there was a way through this without it haunting him every step? Maybe he didn’t need to wait until he knew Mithian had healed to start getting over it.

Right now, he knew the first thing he had to do was tell Merlin what had happened. For although the warlock had seen the signs of the physical abuse, he had no idea about precisely what Odin had done to him in order to humiliate him.

 Sighing, Arthur stared down at his parchment for a moment before pushing it to one side. He couldn’t concentrate on that now. Shoving his chair back the best he could, the king stopped when it was clear he could go no further without help. Instead, he just leant back in the chair and tipped it slightly so that he could see out of the window.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Merlin’s exclamation made Arthur lose his balance and it was only the warlock’s flashing eyes that stopped his chair slamming back into the floor again and jolting every single injury. The bedding that had been in Merlin’s arms was now in a pile on the floor and his hand was still stretched out. Merlin slowly began breathing again when Arthur just continued to watch him and eventually the man shut the door.

“You know what you said about not wanting people to find out?” Arthur said mildly, surprised by Merlin’s over-reaction. After all, the servant had been in his rooms for years without displaying his magic. But now, even though it was Merlin’s choice to keep it secret, it seemed as if Arthur wasn’t the only one jumping at shadows.

As Merlin slowly came back to reality, Arthur snickered to watch him go bright red. But then stopped when his lover turned a fierce glare on him.

“Laugh all you want, Arthur. I thought you were going to fall. I thought, I thought…”

“You wouldn’t be there to catch me this time?” Arthur said softly, realising he was being cruel laughing. After all, Merlin had to wait for days until he was able to find out what had happened to Arthur and had only then been just in time. Arthur stretched out his hand and Merlin came to him, slipping his fingers through Merlin’s. He squeezed reassuringly.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the world again. I’m bored in here.”

“You’re a terrible patient,” Merlin muttered, but his mood was softening as he sat on the edge of the desk and brushed Arthur’s hair back from his eyes. The king wasn’t fooled though, he knew Merlin was checking for signs for fever or a temperature. He let the warlock do it, but let his expression tell the man for him that he knew precisely what Merlin was up to. Although Merlin blushed again, it wasn’t the same way as he had before and he lifted his chin challengingly.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” Arthur said innocently. Merlin had been around Gaius too long, he seemed to have developed the same stubborn streak about wanting to check on a patient even when they were just fine. Most of the time, Arthur found it annoying. But right now, he relished in the feeling of being loved.

“You’re up to something, Arthur Pendragon. I know that look on your face.”

“Just ways of wooing you until you get me out of here,” Arthur responded, kissing Merlin’s palm as he did so. Merlin shook his head with a laugh.

“No way. I’ve only just got you back, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be out of your sight. But I’m just so bored of being in here, Merlin, please…”

To his surprise, Merlin sighed dramatically.

“What?”

“I owe Gwaine ten silver pieces.”

“Why?”

“We had a bet on over how long it would take you to start whining.” Merlin said it in such a matter of fact tone that Arthur didn’t initially realised what he had just said.

“Hey!” He protested indignantly, but knew Merlin had seen how long it had taken him to realise he was being teased. The warlock simply grinned and kissed him.

“Lend me the money, would you?”

“Or what?”

“Or I could make your stay in your own chambers rather unpleasant.”

Arthur knew he had been right all along. He didn’t have to be physically healed in order to heal mentally. Instead, he just pulled Merlin onto his lap and kissed him properly.

Then, once he could walk again, he would deal with Odin.


End file.
